


A la Mode

by colocakes



Series: Heart A La Mode [1]
Category: Tegami Bachi | Letter Bee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Spoilers, onesided lag/zazie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colocakes/pseuds/colocakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The stone seats you made were rough, uncomfortable and cold...But, before I knew it, they were comfy and warm...This place will turn that way too" </p>
<p>Canon short story, taking place after the Cabernet is defeated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pretty straight forward, canon based drabbles! Be forewarned, this takes place after the cabernet, so its covered in spoilers.

A general warning, I probably spelled a ton of names wrong. If you spot something I spelled wrong, just let me know!

Inspiration: the entire damn comic. And music. And the second opening theme.  
Warning: spoilers, ooc, “shota”, maybe more, we'll see!  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing.

also, to note, most of this will be blindly copypasta'd because I am trash 8) so uh...yeah >A>

Onward!!

0000000

 

“warmth”

 

I'm definitely not in love, Lag thought, keeping his gaze firmly on the neatly paved streets. Next to him, his portly little pug trotted lazily. Around him were familiar faces that greeted the little ten year old, a few people waving. 

Lag had woken up in a state of disarray, in a pile of sheets on the floor and red faced that morning. Sabrina had poked her head into the room, concerned, but he'd brushed off her questions with frantic stammering. 

He was most definitely not, absolutely not, in love. He firmly shook his head, quickening his pace home. The groceries in his arms were getting heavy and his Dingo in training was of no help as he wandered away frequently. Lag was ready to just lay in bed and smother himself. But the bed was where he absolutely didn’t want to go right then either. 

Sighing, he held the bag closer to himself. Lag was not equipped for these sort of worries. He was busy studying for his upcoming tests in school as well as to submit his papers to the Bee Hive. What time there was, was for sleeping and his aunt. Definitely not adult issues, like love.

000

“Auntie, I'm back...” Lag called, kicking his shoes off as he stepped into the house. 

His Dingo-to-be, of course, proceeded to chew them. Squawking, the boy attempted to shoo him away, to which the dog simply ignored him and ran away with a shoe. Lag quickly gave chase, forgetting the groceries in his arms.

From the kitchen, his aunt peered out at the scene, a laugh threatening to escape her. The dog, almost expertly, attempted to run the boy into a wall. Lag, used to the tricks, managed to avoid the traps. It was routine, Sabrina mused. 

Sometimes she thought that mangy dog's only saving grace was that he forced the boy to leave his room and exercise a bit more. He'd been cooped up in his room so much these days. When finally the boy retrieved his shoe, he looked like he might faint. 

Huffing, Lag entered the kitchen and set the bag down on the table. “I cant stand when he does that...” he whined. 

Ruffling his hair, Sabrina began to unload the densely packed grocery bag. “He doesn’t listen very well.”

“H-He's just new...” Lag defended, sitting down miserably.

You're just too easy to ignore, Sabrina thought. “Well, you have a few more years to train him. Don’t worry.”

Lag smiled faintly. “Yeah...”

Glancing at the boy, the woman frowned. He looked tired, definitely out of it. “Are you feeling alright?” 

Startled, and oddly panicked, the boy stammered. “W-What? Oh, of course! I'm just fine!”

Raising her eyebrow, Sabrina set aside the cabbage she was holding. “Whats the matter?”

Lag smiled blankly, as if he'd been caught doing something inappropriate. “W-What do you mean?”

Sabrina shifted her weight and crossed her arms. “You cant hide things from me, Lag.”

It seemed to do the trick. A look of dismay crossed his face before he hung his head. “I-I'm sorry auntie...” 

Panic bloomed in the woman's chest as she frowned, sitting across the table from him. “What happened?”

Lag kept his gaze down, gulping. “N-Nothing...I just...”

“Just?”

He fumbled for the right words, playing with his sleeve. “H-Have you ever loved someone?”

Taken aback, the woman gaped briefly. Collecting herself, Sabrina nodded. “Of course.”

Lag peered up through his bangs, face beet red. “H-How did you know you did...?”

Suddenly it hit the woman. Her little boy was experiencing his first crush. Relief washed over her as she let out a breath, leaning back into the chair. “I was worried this was something awful...”

The boy blinked owlishly. “W-What...?”

Laughing a bit, the woman reached over, ruffling his wild hair. Lag whined a bit, pouting as his aunt smiled reassuringly. “Its perfectly normal. You don’t need to be so worried.”

At a loss for words, Lag chewed his lip and held back a sniffle. He nodded dumbly and his aunt continued to put away groceries, asking him, “So whose the lucky girl?”

Lag felt his stomach sink, smilingly weakly. “U-Um...no one in particular.”

He couldn’t tell her. He absolutely couldn’t tell her that the person he loved was the same person she'd thrown out of the house three years prior.

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	2. Chapter 2

0000000

 

“rain”

“Why does it always rain, when we're together?”

Lag turned the words over in his mind. Rose, a small girl with the world beyond her grasp it seemed, had said this the night prior. As he laid in front of the hearth, watching the fire lick at a log, he wondered how a stranger had something so profound. Something that Lag wasn’t sure how to voice himself. 

Why was it that he and Gauche were fated to only meet in adversity? Sometimes, it felt like a perpetual cloud followed the two. It hadn’t been that long ago that Lag had to put to bed his dreams of meeting his idol. 

Gauche didn’t exist, at least not on the surface. It had been hard, crushing, to acknowledge. Harder still, was to admit that Noir wasn’t the evil imposter who'd come to take away his hero. To realize he'd told the man he'd wipe him out and refused to consider that maybe Gauche and Noir had been the same person. 

It felt like he was a tiny boat being tossed and turned on a stormy ocean. It didn’t help that it was raining outside, Lag thought dismally. He wondered how people could put their hearts out so easily in words, when he struggled to just admit his belonged to someone he'd once called an enemy. 

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	3. Chapter 3

00000000000

“calendar”

It had been 200 days since Lag left home. 200 days since he got his pass for Bifrost. It had been 200 days since Lag had last seen his aunt but in turn met the people he only saw in memories and dreams. Dreams that now, he had thought in a daze, he could finally act on. 

Dreams that had been crushed into dust, like the delicately falling heart from Gauche's gun. 

Sometimes it didn’t feel so long. When he was running across Yusari or laughing with his friends, when Niche would run circles around him trying to escape Sylvette, Lag honestly forgot about numbers. 

But when he was alone, away from the soothing twilight of Yusari Central, it felt like it had been decades. When the barren and mountainous land stretched ahead of him and the towns were as cold and empty as the vast sky above him was. When Niche was asleep and the only sound he could hear was Steak's snores, 200 felt like 2,000. It felt immeasurable. 

000

Noir held the flimsy paper, curious. As was common of sharing a room, he often ran into Lag's belongings. He hadn’t meant to, honest, but Niche had caused a mess downstairs and Sylvette had asked him to fetch some of her clothes while Lag tried to coax the little Maka girl into a bath. He'd been rummaging through Lag's dresser drawers when he had felt the glossy paper under his fingertips.

Curiosity had gotten the better of him, he thought absently. But part of him was pleased to learn anything about the smaller boy. Lag was so skittish at times, Noir sometimes wondered if maybe the boy still held a grudge against him. 

Nonsense, he thought, flipping through the calendar. It was dated for almost a year ago, and most of it had nondescript dates circled and notes written down. It was actually pretty sparse. Nothing too personal though, Noir noted in somewhat disappointment. 

He was about to put the calendar back when he spotted some red ink under the normally bare paper. Blinking, Noir flipped the page up and was surprised to see so much writing that covered the paper, near to excess. 

Upon closer inspection, the man noted that they were all plans. Plans about Gauche. About himself, he mused. While Noir had put to bed any thought that he'd truly get his memories back, or even want them back, he was immensely curious to see himself through the little Bee roommate he had. 

Little phrases like “eat pizza!” and “talk about work!” popped out, along with some more intimate things. Noir raised an eyebrow. The words, more tiny than the others, “confess!” and “first date!” were squashed into the second row of the month's week. 

Well, that was certainly an eye opener. Of course, he'd always had a feeling, but to see it written down was startling. And a bit rushed, what with the more...intimate goals that lined the third week. Noir had never pegged Lag to be someone impatient.

“Noir! Have you found Niche's pants yet??” 

Startled, the man nearly dropped the incriminating packet. Swallowing, he reminded himself that Sylvette needed him. Carefully putting the calender back under the neatly folded stack of clothes, he grabbed Niche's small bundle of spare clothes and headed for the door. 

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	4. Chapter 4

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“art”

Noir regarded the crumpled up paper curiously. Turning it over, he'd found the clumsy writing “To: Gauche” scrawled over the back. On the front was a bizarrely awful drawing of who he could only assume was himself, although the Bee uniform gave him the impression it was meant to be Gauche. 

It sent an odd pang through his chest, and he wasn’t sure if it was a pleasant feeling or not. He'd been looking for his clothes (all of his boxers had gone missing mysteriously) through the drawers and had stumbled upon the odd drawing. According to Sylvette, Lag had been renting the room. Although the boy often wasn’t home lately, they still shared a room and sometimes Noir found himself in awkward scenarios or found proof of the boy's existence all over. 

Truth be told, it felt a bit like excavating a lost city at times. He'd found Lag's worn out and abandoned calendar some time ago and the other day he'd stumbled across a number of crumbled up and abandoned letters. Most of the things Noir found were little odd nick nacks. He'd always put them back neatly, not wanting the boy to know his secret trove of treasures weren’t so secret these days. 

From the looks of it, the deformed portrait of himself was some sort of letter. Noir could sense a warmth in it, a bubbling of heart. 

000 

“W-What is that...?” Lag stammered as he stepped into the upstairs hallway.

Perched neatly in a frame on the wall was his picture letter to Gauche. Behind him, he heard the soft footfalls of Roda, who glanced at the source of the boy's mortification. 

“Noir found it.” she said simply.

“W-Why is it framed though???” Lag sputtered, face warming as he spoke. 

Roda regarded him in amusement. “He liked it, I assume.”

That didn’t explain a thing! Lag fought back a groan, rubbing his forehead. It didn’t occur to him to ask why the man had framed a picture that was of himself as Gauche, which perhaps would have lead to a number of more puzzling questions. 

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	5. Chapter 5

this was a fic i've batted around a bit before now, but I decided to just get out. It tiptoes slightly into adult territory. As much as hinted puberty based effects can be called adult anyway. If that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip!

Warning: implied wetdreams, liberal interpretation of heart, possible oocness!  
Inspiration: “heart beat” by scouting for girls  
disclaimer: I own nothing!

 

000000

 

“bed”

 

That first night had been so many things, Lag thinks as he looks back. Gauche's room was...sparse. Few pieces of furniture adorned the room and outside of a photograph of Sylvette, there was nothing that stuck out. 

When Lag opened the door, he thought he saw a spider or three dart back to their webs in the shadowy recesses of the room. Taking a breath choked him, the dust thick. Gauche's room was a time capsule, a place that hadn’t been cracked open in years. 

Everything in the Suede sibling's home cried out with memories and heart. Lag could hardly touch a chair without the warmth of heart bubbling through him, making something inside of him ache. This room was no different. If anything, it held so much more. 

That first breath of stagnant air shook him. To his head to toes, Lag was overwhelmed by the amount of sheer heart in the room. He didn’t need to call out any frames. The bubbling, fluffy puffs of his idol's very soul freely swirled in the recently disturbed air. It landed on Lag's nose like a snowflake, warm and soft.

Niche was startled by her new partner and friend's choked sob, hurrying around him to peer into Lag's eye. “Whats wrong Lag?? Should Niche lick it??”

Lag gave her a watery smile, rubbing at his eye with the heel of his palm. “I-Its nothing, Niche...”

The girl frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “But Lag cried.”

Laughing weakly, Lag struggled to find an adequate way to express himself. It wasn’t that he was sad, not necessarily, but that the now fading flakes of heart had overwhelmed his tiny body. It was too much, in too small a space, from someone much too close to Lag's heart. Perhaps that was why he was so strongly touched?

“I-Its nothing, I'm just...really happy.”

And he was. Gauche may not be here, he may be gone. But Lag's dreams were slowly coming true. He was a Bee, he was able to meet all the people he'd seen all those years ago in Gauche's memories. And now, he thought, he was about to sleep in the very same bed his idol had.

Muscling past all of that stagnant, overpowering heart was a chore in and of itself. What was once weightless and soft,was like a snow bank that hadn’t been cleared in a while. Perhaps to anyone else, the heart wouldn’t even be detectable. Lag wasn’t anyone else though. By the time he got to the bed, he didn’t even mind that it was stiff and cold and dusty. 

That night, Lag had been too exhausted to really take in his surroundings. The next, he had the chance to actually breathe in the faded scent of the pillow and sheets. To say they smelled good would be laughable, Lag thinks, but the way he had buried his face in the down pillow, you'd have thought it smelled like flowers. 

Dusty, sweaty, earthy, but all Gauche. 

Lag was embarrassed to say that he'd woken up with quite a mess on the sheets that next night. His face was beet red as he fumbled to try to clean them before Sylvette caught him, desperate to erase the evidence. 

Part of him, he remembers, was just terrified of what that had meant.

And, just like that, his budding teenage hormones had taken away that wondrously Gauche from the sheets. He'd be honest, Lag was disappointed to lay in a bed that no longer smelled like his long lost friend and idol. In its place was lavender, a scent that Lag knew was at the base of those years old scents in the sheets, but still lacking in the idol part. 

000

Noir, Lag decided, was just barely like Gauche. And he smelled almost the same. A thought that, when cramped into a bed between the man and Niche, caused its own fair share of problems. Lag felt the heat crawl up his neck at the memory of sticky shorts and sticky sheets. 

“Having trouble?” a soft voice mumbled, too close to his ear. 

Bastard, he thought miserably, shuddering. “I-I don’t know what you're talking about...”

A light snicker followed that response, as the three squirmed to get comfortable. The room wasn’t big enough for another bed and neither could afford a bad night's sleep. Niche, of course, refused to part from her precious friend. Lag was just happy that Roda hadn’t tried to cram herself between the three as well.

Noir, for his part, was trying not to pick on the boy. He could tell that being so close to another human was giving the boy problems. The man had his theories on how much it had to do with that person being his former personality, versus just hormones. 

Still, he couldn’t lie and say this was at all comfortable. But Noir was certain they'd get into a more comfortable routine eventually. For now, all teasing aside, they really did need to sleep.

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	6. Chapter 6

Oh boy, now things begin! And also, whose this??? a zazie/lag hint??? oh no, i've done it now... 

warning: oocness, outright gayness  
inspiration: “this aint a love song” by scouting for girls  
disclaimer: I dont own nothin!

Also yes I fully believe zazie is a crazy cat person. “i'll just get cats, and they can eat me when I die alone!” 

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“need you now”

“Lag, you don’t look so well...”

Startling from his daze, the boy blinked a few times, turning his dazed gaze to Sylvette. The rhythmic sound of her knife chopping had stopped, he noted. She watched him with concerned eyes, a frown tugging at her lips.

“I'm fine...” he mumbled, yawning and moving to the table to coax Niche out from under. The girl was brushing her teeth, but hiding stubbornly from the wheeled devil that was Sylvette, glowering from under the table. 

“You don’t look so fine...”

Lag suspected that had something to do with sharing a bed with Noir for the last few days. The man left a lot to be desired as a bedmate. Shaking his head, the boy sighed. Niche trotted out from under the table, eying the boy appraising 

Yes, the little Maka decided, something was definitely wrong with her partner. 

000 

A hand settled in Lag's hair roughly, ruffling the mess into a tangle. Lag whined, ducking out of reach of the offending appendage. Glancing over his shoulder, the boy frowned up at the familiar crazy cat boy. 

“Niche and Sylvette say you're not doing so well.” the older boy said, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. 

Ahah. “I'm fine, Zazie...” 

Zazie gave him a top to bottom glance, raising an eyebrow. “Lag, your shoes aren’t even tied.”

The boy bristled. “What does that have to do with anything...?”

“You cant fight Gaichu with untied shoes.” the older boy said, sighing. “C'mon, whats the problem? Noir giving you trouble?”

As usual, the cat boy could read him like a book. Worrying his bottom lip, Lag sighed heavily. Zazie, while he often teased him, could always be relied on. He'd done more for Lag than the boy could honestly admit to. 

“I...” 

Zazie frowned, leaning his weight on one foot. “Yeah?”

Closing his eye tight, the boy blurted out, “I-I think I'm in love and I don’t know how to feel about it! O-Or even what to do!”

There was a stunned silence between the two boys, broken only by Lag's quiet sniffling. Zazie opened his mouth, then closed it. He blinked a few times. Well, this wasn’t exactly what he had expected, at all. But love was better than what he'd expected. 

Still...

“Just to be clear,” The older boy said slowly, tilting his head. “You're...with Noir?”

A subdued nod, followed by a pathetic hiccup, was his answer. Sighing heavily, Zazie scratched under his hat, closing his eyes. “I was worried you were being abused or something...”

Blinking, Lag scrubbed at his face clumsily. “W-What? No...he isn’t”

“Well, this is much less awful than I expected.”

The boy began to walk towards the BeeHive, his crying friend following after with a small whine. “I-Its really awful! I don’t know anything about this sort of thing!”

Zazie raised an eyebrow, and Lag swallowed back an apology “I-Its not the same...”

A scoff. “Right. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“Zazie...”

Coming to a stop near the stairs that lead to the building, the raven haired boy turned to face his friend. “Listen, if its something you want, you should just ask him out. Who knows how long we've all got left? There’s no room for regrets.”

Chewing his lip, Lag didn’t miss the way his friend's voice shook ever so slightly. It didn’t escape him how cruel the irony was in that statement. Sighing, the boy looked down. 

“How do I even begin to do that...?”

The hard look in Zazie's eyes softened and the boy ruffled his little friend's hair. “I think you'll figure that out.”

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	7. Chapter 7

Now things get to where they ought to be~ its goofy and happy and downright sickeningly cute imo but thats a good thing! Or so I hope...

warning: ooc, crackiness, fluffy stuff, zazie and connor trying too hard  
inspiration: ???  
disclaimer: I own nothing!

Onward! I really dont like the ending but I do at the same time...

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“dinner”

 

Noir lowered the paper in his hands, blinking as he processed what he'd just heard. Lag's face was beet red, his shoulders drawn up as if he were reporting in to his superiors. It was a day off, a rare thing for a Bee, and the boy was dressed in a comfortable sweater and oversized pants. 

Somehow, he looked a bit more groomed than usual, the man noted.

“You want to go to dinner with me...?”

Putting words to the requests seemed to intensify Lag's embarressment. “Y-Yeah. T-Theres a r-really good p-pizza place that C-Connor suggested!”

Niche glanced from her bowl of soup, blinking owlishly. “Where Connor took Sunny?”

“Y-Yeah, Niche.” Lag stammered, feeling as if she'd outed him somehow. 

Noir tilted his head, resisting the urge to snicker at the boy's discomfort. “Should I ask Sylvette then?”

“O-Oh um...”

Ever the helpful one, Niche piped up, “Sylvette says she's busy with orders!”

“Well then,” Noir hummed, an amused grin curving his lips. “I guess that settles that.”

Smiling nervously, Lag wiped his clammy hands on the inside of his sleeves. “Y-Yeah, it does.”

000 

 

The restaurant was cozy, tucked neatly between older establishments. It was charming, really, and it brought in a lot of couples on the weekends. This was not lost on Noir, ever the observant one. As they approached the building, he thought back to Lag's discarded calendar.

Was this his first date idea? How cute.

Lag gulped, heading to the door, holding it for his friend with a smile. “Y-You can choose where we sit.”

“Me? But shouldnt that be the girl's choice?” Noir teased, snickering when the boy fumed. 

 

They did find a seat, a small table by a window. Lag sighed happily, the smell of bread a heavenly scent. Noir refrained from picking on the boy, watching him fidget with the menu absently. 

“W-What kind did you want? Connor said the pepperoni was really good.” Lag supplied, smiling. 

It was hard to tease someone so cute, Noir mused. “We can try that.”

The boy seemed pleased. A waitress came to the table, a scratchy voice asking, “How can I help you?”

Lag almost dropped his menu, staring at the “woman”. That chubby, definitely not a cute girl, that was definitely Connor, wasnt it!? Dressed in an ill fitting dress and apron, with a curly wig, Connor was pretending as if this was a routine thing.

Noir eyed the chubby boy, then Lag. “The pepperoni, please.”

Not-a-girl Connor wrote the order down, smiling. “Anything else?”

“Lag, did you want anything else?”

The boy looked between the two, as if he were in a nightmare. “A-Ah um...j-juice...”

“Two juices then!”

Lag watched his fellow Bee waddle off to the kitchen. How did this happen...? Why did it...? Shaking his head, the boy looked to Noir, gaping. Noir smiled back, amused. 

“Whats the matter?”

Did no one else see that...?

“Ah...nothing...”

Sighing, the boy cast another glance to the kitchen. That was definitely strange... But he'd just make the best of this, he decided! 

Turning his attention back to Noir, he smiled and asked, “So how are things going with Dr. Thunderland Jr? Are you finding anything out?”

The man leaned back in his chair, sighing. “Not really, but its going well enough. We found a frame the other day that didnt seem to fit.”

“A frame?”

Nodding, Noir began, “Yeah. Of-”

“Here are your drinks!”

Lag winced, trying not to openly stare as his friend set down the drinks. Connor stood back, clapping like a cute waitress would, smiling. “Are you two out for something special?”

What...?

“A date.” Noir supplied, sipping at his juice. 

Lag whipped his head around to gape at the man, face beet red. What?!

Not-a-girl Connor cooed, a sound that Lag was sure would haunt him. “Thats cute! Should I get you a shake?”

“Lag, would you like a shake?” came the amused response. That bastard wasnt even trying to hide his amused grin. 

“W-Wait one second!!” the boy yelped, confused and mortified. “W-What was that just now!”

Connor tutted. “Aww, he's embarrassed~ Maybe you shouldnt tease him so much.”

He was going to flip the table, he swore it. What the hell was this! But, just to make sure that his not-a-date strayed even further, another familiar voiced called from the kitchen.

“Connor, get your ass back in here! The pizza is gonna burn!!”

What fresh hell was this...? Was that....that couldnt possibly be...

“One minute Zazie, Lag's turning a weird shade of purple!”

000

So the dinner didnt go quite as planned. Noir, merciful for the first time that day, had escorted his friend away from the restaurant when Lag began to foam at the mouth. Lag, to put it lightly, had never been more humiliated before in his entire life. 

They'd decided to take a walk instead, feeling that the fresh air might stop Lag's bawling. Noir almost felt bad. “I'm sorry...I didnt think you'd get so upset.”

Lag kept his head down, kicking at a stray pebble. “Why'd they do that...”

“I suppose for moral support.”

“They failed.” Lag muttered, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. 

Noir fought the urge to snicker. “Connor said he'd give you free pizza for a week.”

That was nice of him, Lag thought. He knew it must be killing his friend inside to not eat it himself. Still, Lag was going to eat it all in front of him now. And maybe even drop it when he went to offer some.

Sighing, the boy whined quietly. “That couldnt have gone worse...”

Noir hummed a bit, “I dont think so. It was a fun first date.”

There was that word again. Breathing hitching, Lag paused in their walk through the park, staring up at the man. “D-Date...?”

Stopping as well, Noir turned to see the boy who he'd walked by. “Well, wasnt that what it was?”

“B-But how did you...?”

The man blinked. “In your calendar. It said you wanted to go on a pizza date.”

Calendar. Calendar. Pizza....date....

“So thats why it wasnt in the sock drawer!” Lag cried, face turning beet red. “You looked through it!”

If Noir was ashamed of himself or embarrassed, he certainly didnt show it. He itched his cheek. “It was by Niche's pants. You asked me to get her a pair and I just found it.” taking note of how his little friend's face was turning that shade of purple again, he continued, “But its fine, really. I thought it was...cute.”

“C-Cute??”

“Isnt this the part where you ask me for the second date?” the man teased.

“I-Its not funny!” Lag sputtered, covering his face with his hands.

“Did I say it was a joke?”

Peeking between his fingers, the boy searched the man's face for any sign of teasing. The biggest difference, Lag decided, was that Noir teased mercilessly while Gauche was painfully straightforward. It was like a child with a bandaid, Noir just grabbed a thread and tugged until Lag came undone most of the time. 

For once though, it didnt seem to be the case. Noir kept a steady, serious gaze on him. Swallowing, Lag felt his heart beat painfully against his ribs. “Y-You...you really want to?”

A smile tugged at the man's lips. “I really do.”

Dont cry, dont cry! Sniffling the boy felt a laugh bubble up. “T-Thats really great...!”

Sighing, Noir ruffled his hair. “You cry so much.”

“I-I cant help it, I'm just...really happy.”

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	8. Chapter 8

So I was having thoughts and now its ridiculously off canon timeline wise, but shhhhh it'll be fun. Maybe.

 

0000000000

 

“family”

 

“You'll really like Auntie, really!” Lag insisted, walking down the familiar cobble stone road. 

Noir had a feeling that it wasn’t so much much himself that Lag was worried about liking this mysterious aunt. Still, it was interesting to see the boy's home town. It was...quaint. A welcome from the crowded streets of Yusari Central. 

Lag had a delivery to the town, a convenient excuse for Noir to tag along and spend more time with his little boyfriend. The word made his heart speed up just a bit. As they closed in on the small two story house, a dog began to bark frantically in the window. 

The boy winced, wondering if the dog would still steal his shoes... 

Sabrina was at the door before they'd even knocked, sweeping Lag into a bone crushing hug. It looked painful, Noir mused, but the boy was laughing happily and hugging her back tight. 

“Auntie...”

“I didn’t think I'd see you again so soon!” the woman said, tightening the hold. “What brings you here?? Have you eaten? You're still so thin...”

Lag's smile never wavered, letting the woman fuss over him. “I'm here on a delivery. But I wanted to introduce you to someone!”

For the first time in the entire encounter, the woman seemed to notice Noir. Turning her gaze on him, the woman blinked a few times before recognition lit her face. She stepped closer to see the man, as if he were a ghost. 

“Is this the same Bee who delivered you?” she asked, turning to see Lag. 

The boy stepped around them, smiling. “Yeah. This is...” he faltered, realizing that Sabrina didn’t know about Noir.

Noir glanced between the two, coughing into his hand. “My name is Noir.”

Sabrina raised an eyebrow, realizing that something was off. This was definitely her adopted son's idol, but Noir hadn’t been the name she'd heard the boy babble on and on about. The man resisted the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. 

“Well, Noir, its good to have you.” the woman said, face breaking into a friendly grin. 

Lag relaxed visibly, before Noir followed him with a quiet sigh of relief. Sabrina stepped aside, ushering the two into the house. “You two must be exhausted, c'mon in! I was just making lunch.”

Noir felt distinctly out of place in such a warm and homey place. Photographs of Lag and his aunt were placed here and there, as well as a few with his mother. There was a delicious scent from the kitchen and a tug at his shoe. 

Looking down, he locked eyes with a chubby pug. The dog was tugging stubbornly at his boot laces and the man had the urge to kick it. An exasperated sigh left Lag, who shooed the dog away. 

“You're still a trouble maker...” he mutter, as the dog promptly sneezed at him. 

Sabrina laughed, heading for the kitchen. The two kicked off their shoes and shrugged off their jackets and bags. After a long trip, it felt good to relax. Lag didn’t need to be told to go wash up, tugging Noir's hand gently towards the bathroom. 

It was definitely fascinating to be physically present in the house he'd only seen in Lag's memories. Although he could do without the way Sabrina eyed him from across the table, as if he were some strange creature that she hadn’t yet decided if he was dangerous or not. Lag chattered happily to his aunt, eating like he'd never had a meal before. 

Swallowing down his mouthful of soup, the boy glanced between the two of them, before smiling with just a touch of anxiety. “I had some news.” 

Sabrina blinked, lifting her head from her hand. “News?”

Oh no. Noir felt his stomach sink, and nearly choked on his bread as Lag happily announced, “Noir and I are a c-couple.”

A silence hung over the table. Noir felt like he was watching the woman's face fall in slow motion, as she looked between them in a confused daze. Had she really heard right? Lag's smile stayed firmly put but Noir felt like he might throw up his lunch. This definitely wasn’t going well.

Instead of the fury he expected, the woman seemed to approach the topic gingerly. “Lag...aren’t you a bit, ah...young to be dating?”

The boy blinked owlishly, as if he had just now considered that maybe 12 really wasn’t the age to be engaging in passionate love affairs. Itching his cheek, the boy responded, “Well...a bit...but I love him.” he said with more courage and conviction than Noir thought possible. “And I don’t want to wait, not when the future is so unsure...”

Hearing the words always made the man's heart beat a bit faster. Hearing Lag admit this, proudly at that, to his aunt, was a surreal and wonderfully touching feeling. Admittedly, he'd really rather not be the target of the woman's ire, but he'd go through it a dozen times just to hear that statement again. 

Sighing, Sabrina rubbed her forehead tiredly. Noir suspected that she'd had more frustrating discussions with the boy before. “Well, when you put it that way, I'm the one that sounds crazy...”

Lag let out a little laugh, a nervous smile forming. “B-But I wanted you to meet him, since we were passing through...”

Sabrina leveled the man with an imposing look, appraising him more seriously than before. He struggled not to swallow back the lump in his throat. “Well, he doesn’t seem like a bad person. I guess... I can try to see it.”

Noir felt the breath escape him, relief nearly crushing. The woman couldn’t help letting out a laugh at his obvious anxiety. Lag was amazed Sabrina hadn’t actually outright rejected the relationship. Memories of the last time he'd visited with Roda returned to him, and Lag felt a smile form. 

Of course she wouldn’t, he thought. 

000 

 

The remainder of the visit was fairly relaxed, the three finishing lunch before being drilled on their relationship. When she was sufficiently sure that her precious child wasn’t being corrupted and that Noir wasn’t some crazy rapist, they moved onto other things. 

Once she'd passed along a few recipes for Sylvette and they'd sufficiently caught up, she allowed the two to take their leave. With many teary farewells, the two made their way to their original destination. 

All in all, Noir supposed there had definitely been worse ways that could have gone. He was glad though, that he got to meet part of Lag's family. He hoped Anne wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating. 

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	9. Chapter 9

Ohoho pre-cabernet oneshots about zazie and lag, what're the odds! ….actually fairly high considering what the background is, but! 

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“mug”

 

There were days when it felt hard to get out of bed. Everyone had those days. Lag had those days a bit more often than most these days, though. Still, he had to push himself to get through his tasks, or what he'd worked so hard for would be for nothing. 

There were a few different kinds of hard days. The days when he was exhausted from work, such as after a particularly taxing delivery. On those days, he just went right to sleep. There were days when he didn’t feel like braving the chilly night air, no matter how snugly he was wrapped in a scarf. And there were days when hunting for Gauche drained everything Lag had. 

On these particular days, Zazie did his best to distract his friend. If they were paired for the delivery, he'd talk about his cats and which ones were new. Or about how Thunderland Jr had found a cure for some feline disease. Anything really. Lag usually listened with a patient smile, but it was better than that quiet, dead stare at the ground.

If they weren’t at work, Zazie enlisted Connor or Niche or anyone around to help him. Comforting people wasn’t the cat boy's strong suit, but for Lag, he'd do his best. Usually by the time they all went home, the exhausted and melancholy look would be gone from the boy's eye. 

And for the days when the look didn’t abate, Zazie stayed late. Today was one such day. Sitting in front of the hearth, the boy looked oddly more melancholy in the warm glow of the fire. Approaching the boy, Zazie pondered how such a tiny kid could look so old. Maybe it was the lighting. 

“Here, milk tea.” 

Blinking out of his stupor, Lag took the cup with a smile. “Thanks Zazie. You didn’t have to...”

He waved a hand, plopping down next to his friend. “Its nothing.”

They sat in the quietness of the night, sipping at their warm mugs of tea slowly. A log cracked in the fire. Glancing at his friend from the corner of his eye, Zazie felt particularly uneasy. Honey Waters had been hard on Lag. 

“You should probably sleep.” he ventured.

Lag offered him a tired smile. “I'm fine.”

It occurred to the cat boy that his friend might be avoiding his bed. It was no secret why he did, Zazie wasn’t sure he could have the strength to sleep in the bed of his lost idol. Although, something told him there was more to Gauche and Lag than just idol worship. But that was something he hadn’t asked Lag about. Some things were just better not to ask about. 

Sighing, the raven haired youth got more comfortable in his spot on the couch. He'd be there for a while it seemed. Time was inconsequential on these sorts of nights. A gentle weight settled against his shoulder, startling the boy from his thoughts. 

Turning his attention to his side, he found a tuft of silvery hair obscuring his view. Lag kept his gaze on the fire, the dark rings around his eye far too pronounced at this angle. Zazie couldn’t help but notice the way he flushed. 

“Hey...”

“J-Just for right now.” the boy mumbled.

Blinking, the cat boy felt an easy grin form. This, he could do. Wrapping an arm around his friend's smaller form, Zazie pulled him closer. Lag was a comfortable weight and warmth against his side. A warmth that he found himself craving these days, ever since the boy had first turned to him for comfort. 

They stayed that way for a long time, neatly folded against one another. At some point, Lag had dozed off and forgotten his tea. Zazie pried it away gently from his hand, setting it on the table. As he moved to settle back down, the boy nuzzled into his neck and mumbled quietly in his sleep. 

A surge of jealousy raced through his chest, as his friend breathed out a soft “Gauche”. His arm tightened around Lag. Chewing his lip, Zazie reminded himself of why exactly his friend sought comfort in friendly cuddling. 

He could never truly forgive Gauche. The man was a monster, to leave behind such a precious person. Zazie just wished Lag saw the man for what he was. 

Sighing quietly, the boy closed his eyes and counted to ten. It didn’t matter. He was going to be here for Lag, regardless of his desire for more than platonic cuddling and hand holding. And maybe someday, if the boy ever became sick of chasing after the phantom of a man long gone, he might be able to bring himself to tell Lag how he actually felt.

But tonight was not that night, Zazie thought, glancing at the clock. Lag needed to be woken up to go to his bed, but the cat boy couldn’t bring himself to wake the boy just yet. Just a bit more, he promised himself.

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	10. Chapter 10

Cute interspersed domestic things to battle the oncoming sexual and angsty stuff! Ahahahahaha. And by sexual I mean things I promise but never deliver cuz i'm trash!

Warning: referenced sexual activities. Thats really it.  
Inspiration: “heart attack” by demi lovato (aahhhh my recent fav)

enjoy! Maybe! I hope!

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“heart attack”

 

Lag found himself putting more effort into his appearance than he thought necessary most days. It wasn’t that his sudden need to run a brush more thoroughly through his tangled locks was a bad thing, or that washing his face or cutting his nails more often was any real harm. But it struck him suddenly, mid brush stroke, that this was all too out of the ordinary. 

Staring at his reflection, still the round cheeked, big eyed boy he'd always been, the boy thought something was off. Leaning in close, Lag frowned pensively. What was it?

“Lag's got a bite mark!” came a sudden call from behind him.

Startled from his search, the boy felt himself be gently moved away as Niche climbed onto the stool to begin her own morning rituals. He clamped a hand over his neck frantically, gulping. 

“N-Niche, don’t say that so loud...” he pleaded.

The little blond girl glanced at him from the corner of her eye, tooth brush pausing in her mouth. “Does it make you mad that you got bitten when you were fighting last night?”

Fighting. Lag's face lit up. Was that what Roda had told his little Dingo? Swallowing the lump in his throat, the boy dug through the medicine cabinet for something to cover the mark with. 

“I-I'm not mad.” he stated, deciding not to correct Niche. 

Niche eyed him, tilting her head, but chose not to comment. As the boy hastily applied a bandage over the mark, she hummed in thought. Lag mumbled to himself, cleaning up the mess at the sink before hurrying to finish dressing for work. 

As he tugged his shirt on, the topic prior to Niche's comment crept back to him. He'd never put this much effort into his appearance before, he mused. Lag wasn’t a gross kid, no, as his aunt and mother had been adamant about cleanliness and hygiene. Still, he simply hadn’t cared this much about how he'd looked before. 

Sighing to himself, Lag wondered if he was becoming vain. Truth be told, he wasn’t 100% comfortable with what his body was doing as it aged. Maybe he was just overcompensating for that reason. 

A hand settled in his neat hair and ruffled it out of place, causing the boy to whine and attempt to disengage from it. Lag didn’t need to look up to know who had mussed up his hair, huffing. 

“I just brushed it...” he said sourly. 

Noir chuckled, fingers deftly pulling his tie together. “I saw.”

Glancing up, Lag felt his irritation melt. It was hard to feel annoyed when he saw that easy smile. Swallowing back the complaint on his lips, the boy looked down. It occurred to him, in a briliant burst of realization, that his new found attention to his looks coincided with the man's return. 

Feeling just a tad silly, Lag hung his head. Zazie and Connor had already been making their fair share of teasing comments about his grooming. While Zazie's teasing had been fairly muted as of late, Connor had picked up right where the cat boy had left off. 

Adjusting his shirt collar, the boy's fingertip brushed against the coarse material of the bandaid. Cheeks flushing, Lag mused that perhaps it was worth the extra attention to detail after all.

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	11. Chapter 11

Yaaaay the last truly happy and ungloomy chapter! But thats not to say the rest are sad, just not so purely joy covered. Worry not!

Warnings: spoilers (if you are reading this far, you've already doomed yourself)  
inspiration: “ready or not” by bridgit mendler (all the songs I have for her inspire basically all the fics >A>)

onward!

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“dress”

 

Sharing a room meant sharing space. That space filled up quickly, even if Noir had little to put away to begin with. And so, when the drawers to the dresser no longer closed, Lag decided they would clean and organize. 

Or, that would have been the case had his new roommate not been a cruel monster who didn’t know how to let things go. 

Groaning, the boy hid his face in his hands. “J-Just throw that thing away...!”

In Noir's hands, in all of its daintily frilled glory, was the dress Lag had used to infiltrate the Abbey. When he'd gotten back from that mission, the boy had just tossed his entire bag of clothes into the dresser drawer, not bothering to sort it at the time. He'd been exhausted and excited to see how his idol was doing and over the last few weeks, he'd just forgotten all about the stupid dress. 

Of course, that’s not how it looked to Noir. He took one look at the garment and smirked. “I didn’t know you liked these kinds of things, Lag.”

“I-I don’t!” he wailed, face red. “I forgot to get rid of it!”

Noir held it up in front of himself, closing an eye. It occurred to Lag that he was picturing the boy in it. Fuming, the smaller male lunged for the offending article. “S-Stop that right now! Get rid of it!”

The man easily held it out of his reach, holding him back with a finger to the forehead. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Why!”

“You don’t need to be ashamed.” Noir said, that damnable smirk growing. “I'm sure there’s lots of kids like you.”

“There’s nothing that I'm like!” the boy cried, struggling to grab at the dress. 

From the hallway, he heard Roda chuckle to herself. “So you still have that?”

If possible, his face burned even brighter. Groaning, Lag covered his face. “N-Not you to...”

Noir glanced at his faithful companion, amusement clear in his eyes. “Didn’t you say you caught him in this?”

“We fought in it.” Roda confirmed, setting the stack of clean laundry she'd been holding on the bed. “He was very cute, but so unlady-like, never crossing his legs or minding when it hiked up.”

Lag took one look at the man and saw the gears turning in his head. Giving a long whine of humiliation, he cried, “Roda, no!!!” 

The laugh that escaped the two could have drove him to drinking, if not for the lack of malice in it. Noir ruffled his hair and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his head. “I'm sure he makes an awful girl.” the man teased.

Roda snickered, folding some clothing that had been deemed worthy of keeping. “I hear there’s a betting pool surrounding that.”

“Oh?”

Lag let out a cry of horror, “No! Y-You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that!”

Sharing a room wasn’t so bad, when he could cuddle and kiss Noir. It wasn’t so bad when it meant that they could all form a comfy tangle on the bed on the colder nights. But this was definitely not one of those highlights. 

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	12. Chapter 12

I've wanted to write this one for so long, I was so excited 8D;; but i'm super not good at drama so i'm sure I messed up anyway.

Inspiration: “man to man” by gary allen

 

00000000

 

“man to man”

 

It was raining steadily, the drops pattering noisily against the window pane. Lag watched the dreary weather from his desk, head resting in his hand. It had been raining for a few days now and he hadn’t had any deliveries for the day. Whats more, his friends were all busy and he felt the bordem and loneliness sink into his bones like the chilly air.

Sighing, he wondered why at least Connor hadn’t shown up. He loved Sylvette's end of the week meals, where she used up whatever was left to make dinner. But he'd seen neither hide nor hair of the pudgy boy. More alarming, was the lack of Zazie in his daily life. The boy seemed to evade contact with him after deliveries and hadn’t shown up in a week for breakfast or dinner.

As he went to heave another long sigh, the boy heard the door open quietly. Lag knew from the way his foot fell over the floor boards who it was, before Noir even spoke. Casting a glance over the sullen child, the man frowned. 

“Whats the matter?”

“I'm worried about Zazie...” Lag mumbled, frowning. “He hasn’t been himself lately...and he didn’t come for breakfast at all this week.”

Noir set down the basket of laundry Sylvette had sent him up with, blinking. “That is strange. Did he say why?”

Lag shook his head gloomily. “No...but I think he's avoiding me.”

The words struck a cord in Noir. “Is that so...”

Sighing heavily, probably for the third time since Noir had come in, the boy replied, “I wonder what I did wrong...He sees Connor still.”

Turning his attention back to the laundry, the man began to fold it and put it away. “I'm sure its not you. He might just be anxious about the news of the Head Bee.”

Lag wanted to believe that. Zazie had never cared about the title before. But maybe the governmental turmoil had caused some stress on the boy. Maybe Lag's big reveal had been too much. Sighing again, Lag mumbled, “Maybe...”

Pausing in his chores, Noir stepped over to the boy, ruffling his hair gently. He smiled a bit when Lag whined in dismay, attempting to fix the tangle of hair. “I'm sure its nothing big. Don’t worry so much.”

Glancing up through his messy hair, the boy felt a smile tug at his lips momentarily. “I hope so...”

000 

The rain had let up just in time for his return, as luck would have it. Zazie's mood soured as he attempted to side step the deeper puddles of murky rain water, holding his empty bag closer to avoid the still emptying rooftop drains. He hated rain.

The sight of Sylvette's door caught his attention, and a sigh of relief escaped him. He was eager to tug off his soaked uniform and warm up with his friends. He'd been so busy this week that even if he was forced to endure Noir and Lag's gushy displays, Zazie was more than happy to just relax with Lag and Connor. 

Pausing in the road, the boy felt a frown tug at his lips. Speak of the devil. Noir had just stepped out of the house, a paper in his hand. Probably a grocery list. If he wasn’t mistaken, Sylvette's famous end of the week dinner had passed the other night. 

He was hoping that the man would just continue down the street, but he glanced up from the paper and spotted Zazie just as the boy had begun to step away. Noir regarded the boy as if he'd known he was there the entire time, blinking. Zazie felt his hair stand on end.

“Hello, Zazie. Did you come to see Lag?” Zazie nodded curtly, and the man continued, “He isn’t here, I'm afraid. He just left a bit ago.”

Scowling, the boy let out a quiet “tch...” and began to turn around to leave. It figured. He'd come to see the boy, but it was just as well. He didn’t think he come stomach Lag and Noir tonight anyway.

Noir watched him turn, frowning. “Is there something on your mind?”

Pausing, Zazie glanced back and raised an eyebrow. “Whats it to you?” 

For a moment, Noir felt around for the right words. “Lag's been worried about you. He thinks you've been avoiding him.”

Zazie winced. Lowering his gaze, he muttered, “Figures he'd think that...”

“So,” the man ventured, tucking the paper he'd forgotten he'd been holding into his pocket. “It isn’t true?”

“...” Zazie was silent. 

“Does it have to do with me?”

He could practically see the fur stand on end, as the cat boy's disposition soured. If he were a cat, his haunches would be raised. Struck a nerve then. 

Zazie's face scrunched into a scowl. “Why the hell would it?”

Noir felt like he was cornering an animal. One wrong word, and he was fairly certain the boy would lash out. “You've been avoiding Lag since he announced we were together.”

In an effort to reel in his irritation, Zazie took a slow and steadying breath. “Listen, its not my business what he does. I don’t care.”

His voice shook, just a bit, Noir noted. “Is that so?” 

“Yeah, “that’s so”.” Zazie snapped.

“So,” the man began, knowing he was about to step on the boy's tail. “this doesn’t have anything to do with jealousy? Or your past affair?”

Caught off guard, the boy shot him a disbelieving look. “E-Excuse me?” 

Bingo. Noir said nothing, watching Lag's precious friend crumple from the inside. The expressions flashing over the boy's face were like a broken record, the notes lost in translation. Finally, he settled on a cold, narrow eyed scowl. 

“Listen.” Zazie hissed, “You're stepping on some thin fuckin' ice here.”

“So it isn’t true?” 

“Yeah, we went out.” he snapped, voice quivering with the attempt to stay calm. “But that’s not your business. If he wants to date someone who abandoned him and broke his heart, that’s his choice. I've got nothing to say about it.” he spat, fists clenching at his side.

Raising an eyebrow, Noir almost felt insulted. But this was just built up emotion, he reminded himself. Zazie knew the truth, he just wasn’t thinking straight in his anger. “That’s a rather serious accusation.”

Realizing what he had said, the boy looked spooked for a moment. Zazie hadn’t meant to say that. Swallowing hard, he pushed aside his momentary guilt. “Its the truth.” he said bitterly, meeting the man's gaze straight forward. “You're gonna hurt him again. He's gonna cry and I'm gonna have to pick up the pieces again.”

And I cant do it again. The unspoken words reminded Noir just how those predictions had come true, when he'd first arrived. Zazie had every right to make accusations, he mused, because he'd yet to prove he wouldn’t do it again. 

Still, he wasn’t going to. Noir was certain in this at least, that he'd do anything to never hurt Lag that way again. “I can assure you, I wont.”

Zazie snorted, “Yeah, sure. Lag might be fooled, but I'm not.”

Words didn’t mean much, the man had learned. It was actions that spoke louder, and he knew that he'd sent the wrong message. Sighing, he closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “Whether you're fooled or not, its you whose abandoning him right now.” 

Zazie couldn’t hold back a flinch. He hated the idea of what Noir had just said, rejected it wholly. But was he wrong? Had Noir been wrong about anything just now? Biting his lip, the boy fought the urge to lash out. 

“Whether you like me or trust me, Lag is who you're letting down.” Noir continued, the memory of the sullen boy's figure coming to mind. “You're still important to him.”

Casting his gaze to the slick cobble stone road, Zazie muttered, “Like I don’t know that already...”

Watching him a moment longer, Noir sighed and moved to leave. “Well then, do something.” 

Zazie watched him go, the urge to throw something at the man growing with each step that carried him away. He hated him. He hated even more that he was right. Sighing hard, the raven haired boy tugged his cap down over his eyes, turning on his heel.

He absolutely did not like that guy whatsoever!

000

The scent of breakfast pulled Lag from his exhausted slumber. He'd gotten home late and had passed out, barely out of his uniform, onto the bed. He hadn’t even bothered trying to squirm in the tangle of people, content to lay half on Noir and half buried under Niche. It wasn’t until he smelled eggs cooking that he finally pulled himself from the comfy mound of blankets.

Surprisingly, Niche was up already and he could hear Sylvette's voice demanding that she brush her teeth. A lazy smile tugged at his lips as the boy tugged on his sweater and a pair of baggy pants, shivering in the chilly room. 

As predicted, Noir and Roda were already seated at the table. Underneath was an irritated Niche, her hair holding her tooth brush as she did her chore miserably. 

Glancing up from the pan of bacon she'd been frying, Sylvette smiled. “Hey sleepy head.”

“Hello...” Lag greeted, holding a hand up to smother a yawn. 

“Hey, Lag!” 

Blinking sluggishly, the boy spotted Connor, his plate already full with whatever he'd brought, plus Sylvette's cooking. Next to him sat a disgruntled Zazie, pointedly ignoring Noir as he ate his eggs. A bubble of relief welled in Lag's chest to see the two after so much time had passed.

“H-Hey...!”

Zazie glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Hey, don’t cry. There’s still lots to eat.”

A laugh escaped the boy as he trotted over to the table. “I-I'm not crying!”

Sylvette set down their plates and joined them soon after with her own, a bright, pleased smile on her face. She was more than relieved to see the mangy cat kid had shown up, although she imagined Connor had probably dragged him here. Still, she was glad. No one enjoyed seeing Lag drift about like he was about to be executed. 

Somewhere, in the middle of reaching for bread across the table, Lag caught Zazie's eye. He paused, before a warm smile graced his features. The boy felt his cheeks warm a bit and glanced away, mumbling about needing more milk.

“I'm really glad you came today, Zazie.” Lag said, oblivious to the way his quiet words impacted the boy before him.

Zazie rolled his eyes, stuffing a piece of ham into his mouth. “Shuddup...”

At last, Noir thought, all was right with Lag and his friends. In the coming weeks, they'd need that warmth and that precious happiness to get them through the day. But mostly, he was just happy to see Lag smile again. 

Zazie's words rang in his head, but he was confident that he wouldn’t meet those prophecies this time. Lag wouldn’t be crying over him ever again. And he wouldn’t cry over Zazie either. 

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	13. Chapter 13

Yaaaay for adjusting time from the canon! A bit late to say, but this all takes place roughly over a couple of months. I felt like the manga sped way too fast through it. So tada~

warning: spoilers, ooc?  
Inspiration: the stone chairs from the manga!  
Disclaimer: I own nothing D;

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“stone chairs”

 

It felt surreal to enter this house as Noir and not Gauche. The air felt different in his lungs. The smell of Sylvette's cooking the night prior felt as if he were a stranger passing through. Even the worn floorboards felt different under his feet. 

Noir had begun to insist he and Roda stay in the BeeHive, but it was a fleeting topic, silenced by the teary eyed Lag and Sylvette. Despite the lack of sense this made, Noir couldn’t make the two children cry, or even think to break their hearts, after all he'd done to them. And so it had come to pass that he and his faithful friend should stay with the three children. 

Sylvette guided him excitedly through the hall, Lag following behind with a strange little smile on his face. Perhaps he was thinking about the oddity of having this stranger in his home, instead of his long lost idol.

Dinner was served hastily, a simple spread of food rather than the enormous feast from the night before. They'd had a long night with far too many secrets revealed and too many lives lost. No one had the energy to work too hard at cooking. Even still, it tasted as good as the first time Noir had eaten it. 

After washing up and putting away dishes and dirty laundry, another problem arose. 

Cramming five people into a home meant for two was a troublesome thing to do. Naturally, someone was going to be displaced. Noir adjusted his position on the couch, squirming to get comfortable. Roda had taken the arm chair near him, legs folded neatly to her chest. 

Lag had immediately offered his bed up to his former idol, but Noir couldn’t in good conscience sentence the boy to an unpleasant night on the couch or floor. Lag had a taxing day of deliveries to look forward to, he'd explained, and insisted on the couch. The disappointed look in the boy's eye was almost enough to make him reconsider. 

When the lights had gone out, Noir was, for the first time in days, alone with his thoughts. Cluttered tangles of words and fleeting ideas buzzed noisily in his mind, the silence of the dark little living room making the noise that much more noticeable. 

The couch was too lumpy in all the wrong places. Cold seeped into his bones, the dying embers of the fireplace providing little warmth. He could hear the house settling around him, the groans of the wood and stone driving anxious shudders up and down his spine. 

His first night as Noir in the Suede's house left things to be desired. 

000 

Noir doesn’t like the way people eye him when he makes his way through the BeeHive. People whisper, all eyes turned on him the moment that he enters. The first time it happened, he'd been certain someone would attack him. Part of him expected a repeat of his first meeting with Lag, some desperate person sobbing and begging him to remember them. 

The man was infinitely relieved that that never happened. 

000

Dinner is on the table by five thirty and Lag is home by six. Noir returns from working at the lab with Thunderland Jr near six thirty. The importance of the time eludes him entirely. He's busily washing his face, and at Roda's silent urging, he makes his way to the kitchen. 

It only takes one missed dinner to remind Noir to return earlier. The looks of disappointment and wistful smiles on their soft cheeked faces turns his stomach. 

“Its alright,” Sylvette says, pulling out a casserole pan from the warming oven with a smile. “You didn’t know.”

000 

Thunderland Jr works him to the bone. Noir can feel the sweat cooling on his skin in the stale air of the lab, running the back of his hand over his forehead. Strands of hair plaster where he hadn’t bothered to brush them aside first. 

Now and then, he could spot the Deputy Director gazing from afar. Her shoulders would draw up and her jaw would tighten, her eyes blurry with emotions that Noir couldn’t hope to understand. She stirred something in his chest similarly to the way Lag did, an unsettling feeling he absolutely did not like. 

The times when Sylvette comes to visit, a thermos full of the soup Lag hates so much laying in her lap, are the highlights of Noir's time in the lab. She always regards him with a soft smile, eyes swimming with adoration. Noir knew that she had doubts, questions, so much to say... but she never does. 

The long nights of firing off Heart bullets are tiring and they bleed together. Some days, Noir scarcely has the energy to leave the lab and falls asleep on a couch or a cot in the medical wing. It makes the living arrangements easier, but the man cant stand the hurt it puts in Lag and Sylvette's eyes.

But they know and understand the strong, burning need to know what happened to him. They understand that its only in his nature to work so hard that he forgets everything and everyone. Its the one thing, he thinks, that Noir and Gauche share. 

The thought of the stranger who shares his face pushes Noir to work harder. 

000 

Some things were heavy and difficult topics to work his way around. Things like how Noir felt for Sylvette, the sister he'd lost and regained. Some things he didn’t even contemplate if he could help it, such as the way Lag made his heart rattle around in his ribs. 

Other things were complicated and awkward, like bathroom schedules. The narrow house had only one bathroom, and everyone had a different schedule. Lag and Niche woke up early for their morning rituals to prepare for the day. Sylvette required a longer amount of time to get washed up or do her business, her wheelchair still bulky and awkward to move around even after years of use. 

Noir was not sure how he fit in. He was used to doing what he needed, when he needed, and not shuffling outside of a door, praying to the Empress that Lag would just hurry up. 

Although nothing quite topped Niche barging in while he was bathing, perfectly unaware of how uncomfortable the man was as she made her way to the toilet. He hadn’t really known how to react. Luckily, Lag charged in, crying out a sharp “Niche, you cant just barge into the bathroom with him!” that rang out far too loud in the tiled room.

The boy had apologized profusely, covering his own and Niche's eyes as he fumbled for the door. Noir still wasn’t sure how to feel as the door closed a tad too loud. Violated was one way to sum it up. 

000 

Sometimes, when time and schedules permit, Noir and Lag sit up in the living room and talk. The hearth glows gently in the darkness, illuminating the boy in soft oranges and rusts. His eye glitters when he talks about something that he likes. 

Noir enjoys hearing Lag's stories of his journeys through Amberground. He loves the childish wonder in the boy's tales and voice. Lag focuses on positives, only the best in people, in his stories. Noir wonders how someone so good can exist in such a miserable and corrupt world. 

Somewhere between the story of how Lag reunited a servant and her best friend, a story about a chair maker comes up. Lag's voice falters a bit, eye lowering to the worn rug under their feet. 

“I cant believe adults act like that.” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye a bit. 

Noir represses the urge to chuckle, sensing the shift in mood. “Adults do strange things.”

The boy is silent for a few moments, before murmuring, “I never understood it before, how they tried to protect each other by ignoring how they felt. But I think...I think I understand a bit now.”

At first, Noir is surprised at such a difficult topic. He expected the boy to gloss over the cruelty the couple had expressed, even in the face of love and longing. Part of him dreads the direction the conversation might turn. Lag toyed with his bangs idly, mulling something over that, for the life of him, Noir cant read in the boy's distant gaze.

“Shaz said...” he began, pausing to collect his thoughts. “Shaz compared living with her husband to those stone chairs. That they were hard and unbearable at first.”

Lag turned his gaze to Noir, determination and the fire playing tricks with his vivid sepia eye. The man felt his heart jump. “And I know...I know its gotta be hard, to live here. A-And deal with all the things you do.” 

The boy took a breath, closing his eye for a moment. “But I want to believe that...that like those chairs, it'll get warm and comfortable for you here. That you wont leave again...” he trailed off, realizing that he was expressing things he hadn’t yet felt sure of himself enough to say. 

A flurry of emotion welled up in Noir's chest. Its such an innocent thing to say. Such a heartfelt and honest admission. And filled with so much hope, that Noir cant bear the thought of ever letting down Lag's dreams of a happy little family with himself and their rag-tag group. 

Reaching out, he ruffled the boy's hair and smiled softly. “Don’t worry about it, Lag. You wont be so lucky to get rid of me that easily.”

Whining with the ruffle, the boy blinked. Cheeks turning red, he sucked in a sharp breath and bit his lip. Noir recognized the glassy look in his eye as the pre-crybabies, and flicked his nose lightly. 

“No crying.” he chided lightly.

Yelping, Lag covered his nose and pouted, huffing. “I-I wasn’t gonna cry...”

000 

Noir isn’t sure when he started sharing the bed with Lag. He knows it had to have happened after the boy caught him sitting up from the couch, a quiet groan escaping him as his back cracked audibly. Noir couldn’t quite bend his neck comfortably to see the scandalized expression Lag wore, but he could smell the way his feathers ruffled.

Lag tried, in what the Noir assumed were subtle ways, to make Noir's stay comfortable. He'd been trying since night one. Sometimes Noir would find extra food set out for him, or more pillows. 

Lately, it had taken a strange (although cute) turn. Lag murmured in the semi-silence of the living room, “Could you help me carry Niche? She fell asleep and she's so heavy.”

Noir didn’t have the heart to point out that Lag was more than capable of lifting the little Maka girl, or that he could simply wake her up. He pushed aside the blankets, carefully hefted Niche into his arms and followed the boy up the narrow, creaky stairs. 

It was no secret, at least not to Noir, that his little friend was attempting to trick him into sleeping in the bed. It was almost humorous, however, when Lag realized the impracticality almost too late. 

To dare Noir was a dangerous thing. Let no one say that the man would not rise to any challenge. Lag realized this all too late. If the boy wanted him to get in that bed, he would get in that bed. Even if it meant squashing the boy against the wall. 

Lag shuffled awkwardly, squirming to find a comfortable position. Glancing over his shoulder, he could just make out the outline of Noir's head over Niche's glossy hair. Despite the cramped position, the man seemed genuinely comfortable. A small smile tugged at Lag's lips, relief swelling in his chest.

One point to him. 

000 

Roda had trouble finding a comfortable rhythm to her days. Where Noir went, Roda went. It was a simple fact that no one debated. The real trouble came with waiting for her partner to finish doing whatever he was doing. 

Sometimes she'd allow herself to wander the rooms nearest to Noir in the labs. She'd find a comfortable spot to curl up with some ancient looking book that Aria had offered to her. At home, she fought the feeling of being a fifth wheel. 

Niche, especially, went out of her way to remind her of how unnecessary she was. It wasn’t as if Roda needed to be reminded. Society reminded her. The looks people gave her on the street reminded her. 

And recently, Noir's new sleeping arrangements reminded her. There was no possible way for her to fit on the narrow bed that already had two too many occupants. 

Noir's response had been to bring up the too small bed with Lag and Sylvette. The two children, at once, were aflutter with apologies, realizing how this must have affected Roda. She tried not to feel self conscience as they asked what she'd like to do.

What could she possibly say? She wanted to go home with Noir. They didn’t belong here. Noir, instead of voicing her thoughts, proposed a larger mattress. Lag nodded quickly, a bright smile on his face.

“That would definitely work!”

It was not going to work. There was no way they could fit something much larger than another twin bed in that room beside Lag's already small bed. Sylvette suggested, eying Lag's teary face, that they simply get a size bigger mattress and bed frame. 

And so began the process of moving furniture. Before long, they'd replaced Gauche's old and worn out bed with a full sized mattress and frame. It took away a lot of floor space. Roda felt almost squashed in the room.

Come bed time, however, she couldn’t deny the pleasing feeling of laying down flat. Least of all curled up next to Noir, one of his arms wrapped around her loosely. The sounds of the other occupants as they slept was distracting, at best, but Roda found it hard to complain.

Perhaps she could get used to this life.

000 

Her name was Aria. Noir sounded out the strange name to himself as the woman set down a tray of tea. Herbal, she'd said, a recent experiment from a young scientist who'd lost her sight. The woman explained that Gauche had helped the girl validate her studies, that the new relaxation rooms were a blessing to the world weary Bees. 

She had a light, tinkling voice. Noir could understand how someone as lovely and melodious as Aria could reach such a high rank. Sipping his tea tiredly, the man listening to her as she talked about the BeeHive and its inner workings. It wasn’t as if he was unaware of these things, but she put a spin on the news that told more of the people she spoke of. 

More and more often, Noir found that Aria was in the lab with a tray of tea. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. When she left, Thunderland Jr explained that she had been someone special to Gauche. A friend, possibly more. 

Noir felt his skin crawl at the thought of his body having touched someone else's. He detested the mere idea of not knowing if it had. At least Aria didn’t attempt to rekindle whatever she and Gauche had been apart of. She seemed content to be acquaintances. 

It wasn’t lost on Noir though, the wistful looks she aimed at him when she thought he couldn’t see. 

Regardless, he was thankful to have her company. He looked forward to those warm cups of tea and her melodious voice as she told him stories of her time as a Bee.

000 

“Its been a month.” Lag said around his toothbrush, voice garbled by toothpaste. 

Noir paused, soapy hands mid tangle in his hair. “Has it really been that long?”

“Its gone pretty fast.” the boy mused, running the brush under the sink's faucet. 

It felt longer, Noir thought contrarily. Had it really only been a month? Rinsing his hair off, the man frowned a bit. He did not enjoy time lapses. It felt too much like he was losing his memories again, as if some dark void might swallow up Noir like it had Gauche. 

As if sensing the man's mood, Lag paused in his morning ritual. “Its a good thing though. It means you're settling in well.” he said, a bright smile on his foamy mouth. 

Noir couldn’t see the smile around the shower curtain, but he could hear it in Lag's voice. Stepping away from the dark thoughts, the man took a slow breath. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right.”

“So don’t worry.” Lag said, filling a cup with water. “I'm sure in a few more months, you wont even think about how fast time is flying.”

Would he really be here in another few months? Their lives were so chaotic. Death was a constant, something that followed them the way a ghost follows you from one haunting to the next. Noir couldn’t imagine this lasting that long.

Still, he wanted to think that this wonderful life could last. He wanted it to be true.

000


	14. Chapter 14

(looooong sigh) well...this was the harder chapter to figure out how to write. Super short to. But don’t fret, the last two chapters of this will be much much longer! And more fun! Hopefully...

inspiration: “pity party” by melanie martinez, “please mr. postman” by the marvelettes, “liar” by hatsune miku (vocaloid pffff)   
warnings: heavy spoilers from chapter 70 onward? Harmful behaviors, ooc maybe?

Onwards!!! to the gloom!

000000000

“powder”

 

When Lag had first come to Yusari, everything had made sense. The world had an order and though it was fringed with shadows, nothing had made him question his value to it. He was a young up and coming from Cambel Litus, Yodaka and he was guided by a strength he had not known before now. 

When Noir had appeared, everything fell apart. Everywhere he looked, Lag found whispers and shadows of conspiracy and doubt. Suddenly, the very world he'd grown up in had become a foreign land. And yet, with the help of his friends, everything remained somehow whole. 

Despite the chaos that Noir had brought, he brought a solace and comfort that Lag had not anticipated. Had not thought possible, even. The months of peace, of seeking answers, had passed in a haze of warmth. 

And just like that, they came to a chilling end. 

Lloyd had summoned him to the heart of Reverse. A man that, although Lag hadn’t known well, he had trusted had become an enemy. With a swift motion, the former director had cut him down. 

“You cant save anyone.”

000

“Please, don’t tell Noir where I am.”

Roda stared at the boy, a fury building in her that she hadn’t known was there. Lag had been here for a mere two days and everyone was worried sick. Everyone was waiting for him to return. And yet...

“Why...?” she asked, tone kept carefully neutral.

Lag took a long breath, closing his eye. It hurt...it hurt so much, but this was what needed to be done. Opening his eye, he focused on Roda with a determined expression. “If I see him, I wont be able to do this.” I cant save anyone as I am.

A frown curved the woman's lips. “Lag...”

The well of tears in the boy's eye betrayed him, voice watery. “I-I c-cant do a-anything as I am...I w-wont let Chico...I wont let a-anyone die!” he cried, rubbing furiously at his eye. 

Niche huddled closer to the boy, murmuring to him. He smiled weakly and assured her he was alright. Turning back to Roda, Lag felt his stomach sink under her impassive expression. Sighing to herself, the woman closed her eyes. In spite of her fierce loyalty to Noir, she understood. She'd been there when the ethereal Spirit Insect had spoken to the boy, she knew what was at stake. 

As much as it would hurt Noir, Roda understood. 

“Alright.” she relented, opening her eyes to see the boy. “But...don’t take too long.”

Smile just a tad strained, Lag murmured, “I wont.”

With that, Roda took her leave. As her figure vanished into the gloom of the night, Lag tried to find the positive in this situation. He'd always held up well during times of hardship, this would be no different. Only just then noticing the stars, Lag felt the anxiety subside marginally.

Like powdered sugar, the stars felt impossibly close and warm right then to him. At the very least, Noir would see those stars and think of him as well.

 

000 

When Noir entered the house, something had felt off. The usual sounds of night time were there, of course, but something decidedly wrong pervaded the familiar rooms. Making his way through the house, Noir tried to remember the last time he'd felt this uncomfortable in his own home. 

Climbing the stairs, he sucked in a breath as he saw the door to their bedroom wide open. As if the reality might change if he moved too slowly, Noir nearly burst in. Sure enough, as he'd already known it would be, the room was empty. 

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, the man deflated miserably. Some part of him had hoped that Lag had changed his mind. Come back and shined that brilliant smile on him and said they would work it out together. 

He hadn’t

Was this the same bone crushing helplessness Sylvette had felt when Gauche had gone missing...? 

Kicking off his boots, the man shed the worn uniform as he made his way to the suddenly too big bed. A chill pervaded the room and all Noir wanted was to burrow up in the bedsheets and suck in the little bit of Lag that was left in the room. 

A sudden fear pierced him through. 

What if Lag never came back...? 

The terror that followed nearly stopped his breathing. Swallowing hard, the man tugged the blankets over his head and took a breath. In spite of Chico's attempts to needle the group, Noir knew that Lag would always be Lag. Lag had made a promise, not only to Sylvette, but to himself. 

This wasn’t the end. He knew that. He did. 

000

The stars shone like a sea above Lag as he lay on the cold ground. In spite of all the geothermal heat surrounding Shiretoko, the ground was still the ground. Heaving a sigh, the boy closed his eye and tried to remember his job. 

At present, he couldn’t save Amberground. Unless they relied on Chico, whose plan was as unstable as her history was, this world was doomed. No matter what, Lag refused to allow even a single life to be taken, not if he could help it. 

Still...still...

Niche yawned, curling closer to him. Blinking, the boy glanced at her and smiled tiredly. The little Maka had wrapped her hair around them in a sort of living blanket, curled around him protectively. A smile curved his lips and Lag remembered that he wasn’t alone. Even if he couldn’t see Noir, he had Niche. That was enough.

Closing his eye, he repeated that to himself a few times. It was enough. This was enough. 

It didn’t work very well...he mourned. 

000 

There was a level of bitterness that Zazie couldn’t shake when he thought of Lag. Leaning into the back of the carriage, he did his best to stem the building misery. Nearly a year had passed since the boy's departure. 

Sylvette sat in a hospice, neat and empty, like a doll waiting to be played with. Everywhere he went, Chico's name and face pervaded the country. And the hope of his dear friend returning ebbed little by little.

Once again, Zazie mused, he'd been left behind. All of the heartache, all of the effort put into the boy, and Lag had left him just as swiftly as his parents had. No matter how much he tried to calm the building malice in his heart, Zazie found it impossible. 

It didn’t matter that Lag was doing this for the greater good. The knowledge that his friend was trying to save millions of people did little to soothe him. Lag hadn’t even seen fit to tell him in person. Hadn’t even thought to say goodby to Noir, of all people. Both of them had been relegated to a few sentences on a piece of paper.

Closing his eyes, the boy breathed out a slow sigh. One thing he could take comfort in, was that for once, Noir wasn’t above him somehow. While it didn’t help much, it was enough to sooth him during the worst moods. 

000 

The ocean of stars that had once felt like a bridge between Lag and the world he'd left behind, now seemed to drown him. Staring up in a haze at the stars, he imagined that they went on for eternity. Knew they did. Had seen all that could be seen, heard all that could be heard.

His skin felt like it was crawling. Dragging ragged nails over his arm, Lag winced as the familiar welts opened up. Niche watched him silently, holding the ragged fabric of his shirt out neatly. The needle in his fingers quivered and the boy fought to remain calm. 

Sucking in a shaking breath, he held it. 

The only insect inside of him was the one in his eye.

Releasing the breath, Lag wiped his forehead with the back of a dirty hand. When he felt less likely to jam the sewing needle into his arm, the boy returned to the task at hand. While walking around in only his underwear was alright in this place, he couldn’t do that in Central. The once baggy clothing was far too tight now. 

Niche watched him as he carefully pulled the fabric back into place, one stitch at a time. “Is Lag happy to go home again?”

Home...A swell of emotion welled up and he fiercely stamped it down. 

“Yes.” he murmured. 

Home would be so good to return to. Of all the things that had kept Lag sane, the memory of his loved ones did the most. It had stopped him from fleeing the enormous shell he'd taken up residence in for the past year, kept him grounded. 

Niche lifted the shirt to allow him access to a persistently difficult stitch. A faint smile curved his lips, in spite of the years efforts and Lag couldn’t find the will to stop it. 

000000000


	15. C15

Whoo! Second to last chapter! C-can anyone figure out my favorite trope for lag? (coughs) its nervous prude lag whose response to sex is “no I cant cuz the babies”. I am trash. 

Inspiration: “music again” by adam lambert, “origin of love” from hedwig and the angry inch, 

second to last, lets blast! (a bag of potatoes are thrown at me) ded

0000000000

 

“dates”

Time had flown out the window ever since Noir had shown up outside of Honey Waters. In part due to all of the missions and work following his appearance. It would be a lie to say that the man hadn’t put the country through the ringer, especially with his resurrection of the Cabernet. With the backed up mail system and the shroud over the government parting to reveal its inner workings, there simply hadn’t been any time to stop and really look at the calendar. 

Garrard had suggested the plan to lure in others born on the Day of The Flicker. It was honestly the best the worn out and exhausted staff could do just to deliver the mail at a productive pace, so what more could really be asked of the Hive?

This was why Lag was sitting in his bed – which had been replaced to accommodate the four to five occupants comfortably and also made it impossible to have a desk as well – and thumbing through his calendar. There were visits and letters that needed to be moved up, plans to be pushed aside, and Lag needed to compile them first and foremost. 

On the margin of the current week, the boy found his 11 year old hand writing. It was cramped and small, penciled in hastily. It read Day Gauche delivered me to Cambel. A warmth surged through the boy and a small smile found its way onto his face.

In all of the chaos of the last few months, he'd nearly forgotten such an important date. 

A pair of arms wrapped around him from his left, tugging him close. Lag let out a startled yelp, blinking as he felt a chin rest on his head gently. The boy made a indignant noise, but Noir ignored it as he often did. 

“Whats got you smiling, hmm?” he asked, the sound a comfort. 

Lag held up the calendar for the man to see. “Its the week I spent with Gauche, with you.” 

Humming, Noir regarded the date. Of course the boy would write something like that down. It was the most influential event of his life, next to the abduction of his mother. “Its been a while.” 

Nodding, the boy let his smile widen as he turned his attention back the the date. “Almost six years, now.”

“That’s an awful long time to pine after someone who 8 out of 10 employees called “a creepy fuck who smelled funny.”” 

Lag reached up to flick Noir in the nose. “You smell like a hard worker. Auntie says if a man smells like perfume, he's no good.” 

Noir resisted the urge to rub where the boy flicked, pulling him closer. “I suppose that’s a nice way to excuse smelling like a farm animal.”

“I love you,” Lag said, cheeks warming. “even if you smell like a homeless person.”

“You wound me.”

They fell into a lull, content just to be in each others presence. Noir was sturdy and comfortable to lean into, making it easy to forget the world when he was all around the boy. Momentarily, he forgot what he was doing and began to reminisce. 

A year ago, he had grand plans of what to do with Gauche when they finally met again. Dates, walking together holding hands, cheesy things. Things he'd never admit to fantasizing about, because Zazie would have laughed and because Connor always had such a nervous smile when Gauche was mentioned. 

“You know,” the man began, voice soft. “I always thought it was cute that you had so many big plans for meeting Gauche...me, again.”

Face warming, the boy tilted his head up to see his lover. “Y-You promised you wouldn’t mention that...” he groaned. 

Snickering, Noir kissed his forehead. “I'm surprised that you moved so fast though. Two weeks and already in bed? I wouldn’t have guess.” he teased.

If possible, Lag's face became redder and he looked away. He didn’t have any excuse that would really explain anything. In spite of his closeted fantasies, Lag was raised to be a good kid who kept his hands to himself. Sabrina was adamant that he learn that, and he understood the worries. His aunt had seen the happier pregnant couples and the more dire ones. 

Of course, there wasn’t any real fear of that with Noir, but that didn’t stop the hardwired morality from stopping him before things became too heated. And while that shouldn’t bother him – he was a kid, this wasn’t something he should involve himself with – it did. He wanted to meet all of Noir's needs, the same as the man met his. 

Noir frowned, sensing the boy's anxiety. He pressed a kiss to the boy's cheek. “I'm sorry. That was too much.” 

As the man rubbed his back, Lag felt more like a child and less like the man Gauche had called him years ago. Swallowing back his anxiety, he leaned into the hand and chewed his lip. “I-Its not that...”

The man hummed a bit as he nuzzled his cheek. “No?”

Lag couldn’t stop the smile that wormed its way onto his face, tilting his head a bit to escape the affectionate gesture. “No.”

“What is it then?” Noir asked, sitting up properly to see the boy's face. 

Worrying his lip, Lag attempted to put the words together. It was easy in his head, but verbalizing them... “Its just that...You always take care of me...” he mumbled, fidgeting with his sweater sleeve. “I want to be able to do that for you, but I...”

It dawned on the man slowly, ever as socially inept as he had been 6 years ago. “I see...” he murmured. 

Nodding, Lag shrugged helplessly. “I just...I get so nervous and I...” he trailed off, blinking when he felt a hand card through his hair lightly. Looking up, he frowned a bit. 

“Its fine.” Noir said simply, brushing the boy's messy hair aside and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You already give me more than enough. I don’t need anything like that.”

Heart thumping in his chest, Lag fought the growing urge to start crying. “H-Honest...? B-Because I'll do it, r-really...!”

“I know you will.” the man hummed, pulling him close and brushing through Lag's hair with his fingers. “But you don’t need to. I'm happy as we are.” 

Just when Lag thought he couldn’t love the man any more than he did, he seemed to find a way to prove him wrong. Swallowing hard, Lag nodded dumbly and buried his face in his lover's chest. “T-Thank you...”

“Its nothing.” Noir said, glancing at the calendar. “Why don’t we go out for pizza with Sylvette later? Celebrate Gauche day.”

“Gauche day?” Lag echoed, glancing up. “But its Gauche week.” 

Noir shook his head. “You only get one day. Its already the middle of the week, it's too late.”

“I think you're just bitter because there isn’t a Noir day.” Lag said, sitting up properly.

The man hummed to himself, tapping the calendar. “Alright. You can have Gauche week, but next week is Noir week. How about that?”

“That’s an awful lot of holidays...” the boy said, fighting back a smile. 

“Its Noir week or no week at all.”

Laughing, the boy straightened up and set the calendar down on the nightstand. “Alright, alright. You're as pushy as Niche.”

The man snorted. Now there was a laugh. But it was good to see Lag smiling and relaxed again. As much as Noir enjoyed toying with the boy and pressing his buttons, a genuinely upset Lag was not something he wanted to see. 

Stretching up a bit, Lag pecked him on the cheek. “Alright, so maybe not that stubborn.”

“That’s a start.” Noir said, nuzzling his nose.

As the two fell into a comfortable banter once again, Lag couldn’t help but feel thankful that he could do this at all. After all of the empty nights searching for the man, after all the heartbreak and hurt, he could finally see his long lost idol. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Lag felt like he was living the dream. And he never wanted to wake up from it.

 

0000000000

“music”

 

When the Earth was still flat and the clouds made of fire, mountains stretched up to the sky – sometimes higher. Folks roamed the Earth like big rolling kegs. They had two sets of arms, two sets of legs! 

They had two faces peering out of one giant head! So they could look all around while they talked and while they read.

And they never knew nothin' of love. It was before the Origin Of Love.

“That sounds lovely.” 

Looking up from where he was lounging on the couch, Lag beamed. “Doesn’t it? A customer gave it to me.”

Noir picked up the carton to the record, raising an eyebrow. A stylish woman with enormous blond hair was painted on the cover, eyes closed with what he assumed was passion. The name didn’t ring a bell. 

“That was kind of her.” he said, turning over the carton to read the track listing. 

Lag nodded, turning to face him better. “It was fun. For a moment, it felt like before the Cabernet.” he said, leaning his head in his arms. 

The boy didn’t have to explain what he meant. When times were simple, and dreams were as tall as mountains. Sylvette had told him all about how Lag often ran around solving the woes and mending broken hearts for the citizens he encountered. 

Sitting next to the boy, Noir leaned back in the couch and resisted the urge to prop his feet up. “Tell me about it?” 

Blinking, Lag laughed a bit. “I-Its really not anything interesting...I just... helped a lady patch things up with someone special to her.” At the man's silent questioning face, Lag itched his cheek. “They were having a huge fight over music...and things I don’t really understand.” he admitted sheepishly. 

“Sounds about right.” Noir said, ruffling the boy's hair. Lag whined and attempted to straighten it out again, in vain as that was. “These songs seem rather...”

“In bad taste.” Lag supplied helpfully.

“Yes.” 

The boy gave a sheepish little grin. “She was like that to. I don’t really like things like that, but... its a really pretty album.”

As the soft melody continued, the two paused to listen. The lyrics told a story of injustice and hubris, reaching a crescendo that left Lag's stomach in knots. He was almost thankful for the brief, soft reprieve of the music that flowed between the bridge and chorus. 

Swallowing, the boy laid his head on Noir's shoulder as he tugged him closer. Great bouts of emotion were not common in the usual music. Lag could certainly understand why the quarreling couple hadn’t been able to take off in the thin air of Central. 

“Its so sad...” he murmured, chewing his lip.

Noir nodded, rubbing his back gently. He wasn’t sure if the boy next to him was on the same page as he was, emotionally, but the song had struck a painful chord. He had half a mind to turn off the gramophone, but he could tell Lag was still listening to the singer's voice as it swelled into a passionate epilogue of sorts. 

That’s the pain, that cuts a straight line down through the heart; We called it love! We wrapped our arms 'round each other, tried to shove ourselves back together. We were makin' lo-

Lag fumbled to stop the record, face red. It cut off with a grating whine and the boy sighed in relief. Noir watched in in a befuddled amusement, tilting his head. Glancing back awkwardly, Lag realized how crazy he must look. 

“U-Um...” he stammered, swallowing hard. “I-I'm not comfortable with the rest of it...”

It struck Noir as ironic that Lag could witness horrific tragedies and still find it in himself to be uncomfortable with a topic like sex. Especially since it wasn’t anything detailed here. “That’s alright.”

Lag sighed, sitting back down heavily on the couch. Face still red, he fought to find the right words to say. “I know its stupid...” he mumbled, hanging his head.

The man rubbed his back reassuringly. “No, it isn’t” After meeting his aunt, Noir could understand where the boy's often rather conservative behavior and thinking came from. 

An awkward silence filled their pause in conversation. Without the gramophone to fill it, it was almost suffocating. Swallowing back his anxiety, Lag mumbled, “D-Do you ever think of that...?”

Glancing down at the boy, Noir blinked. “Think of what?”

Lag gestured to the gramophone awkwardly. “That. W-What she was saying.”

Noir wasn’t sure quite what the boy was getting at. It could be the topic of sex or something existential, who knew. He chose not to prod the boy's sensitive disposition. “The topic she's talking about is actually a story I've read before.” 

Blinking owlishly, Lag asked, “Huh...? It is?”

“Mhm.” Noir looked skyward, attempting to recall the strange language. “Its called the Symposium. Something different in another language, I think.” he supplied, and as an afterthought, “By a man named...Plato, I think.”

Lag looked at the former outlaw as if he was talking in tongues. Then, the name clicked. Blinking, he said, “One of those Greek philosophers.”

Noir nodded, “Yes.”

Lag hummed, tilting his head as he processed the information. “It sounds...depressing.”

“Its actually quite uplifting.” Noir said, pulling Lag closer in a one armed hug. “It ends on the idea that we can find our missing half.”

Lag glanced up at him, blinking. “You believe that...?”

“I'm not sure. I think its...an optimistic thought.” Definitely a nicer idea to go to bed thinking of than the creeping dread existing outside of the house. “I'd like that, if it were true.”

Chewing his lip, the boy turned the words in his head. If the story were true, he wondered if Noir was his other half. It had dawned on him a week ago, while listening to Sabrina's tale of his birth, that Gauche's missing eleven years were inside of him. Swallowed up without a thought, without meaning, leaving him empty and ever searching to fill that gaping whole. 

The thought made him sick. He had more in common with Zeus than with the humans in the story. For all he knew, Gauche was supposed to be living happily with Aria and Sylvette. Stomach turning, the boy shook off the thoughts. 

It didn’t matter, he told himself. That was the past. What mattered was the future, the present. He found he didn’t like that song so much after all. 

000 

The world rushed around him as he stood still. That’s how it felt, without Lag's sunny smiles and comforting warmth next to him at night. Closing his eyes against the blinding sunlight, Noir fought to stay away from Central. He had a job still to do.

Roda hefted a heavy sack onto the deck of the gilded boat. “You're spacing out again.” She chided softly.

Blinking, the man shook his head. “Sorry.”

Eying her companion, the girl's brows knitted. “You've been distracted lately. Are you thinking of him?”

The air seemed to leave Noir when Lag was mentioned. He'd grown used to the vacuum the boy's disappearance left in him. “Its almost time for the plan.”

Roda nodded, lifting another sack. “He will be there.” 

Pausing in his task of arranging the hefty bags, Noir frowned. It still bothered him to know that Roda knew where the boy was, that Lag didn’t try to reach out to him. “I know.”

He just wasn’t sure if he would be able to look at Lag after all this time. If he could muscle through the bitterness and the heartache. 

000 

It wasn’t hard to see the magic in the landscape that singer had described. Whenever Lag closed his eyes, he found himself in a field of tall, wispy grass. Sometimes he'd lay in it and watch the clouds climb into the endless sky above him.

He knew now that the singer had been right in the descriptions of Earth. Before Spiritus had sucked the life from it, the world had been majestic. Mountains truly did touch the sky, clouds climbed above him dyed red with the sunset. 

He wished Noir could see it. He wished everyone he knew could see it. But most of all, Lag wished he could watch Noir see the world as he could now. Lag knew that when they next met, he might not be able to. 

0000000000

I combined two for one! Cuz...well, I loved both prompts and I couldnt settle so...there. Tis done.


End file.
